“Hey Carley, come down.  I shore have something to tell you,” she called.

Carley did not use any time pattering down that rude porch stairway.  Flo was dusty and hot, and her chaps carried the unmistakable scent of sheep-dip.

“Been over to Ryan’s camp an’ shore rode hard to beat Glenn home,” drawled Flo.

“Why?” queried Carley, eagerly.

“Reckon I wanted to tell you something Glenn swore he wouldn’t let me tell. . . .  He makes me tired.  He thinks you can’t stand things.”

“Oh!  Has he been—­hurt?”

“He’s skinned an’ bruised up some, but I reckon he’s not hurt.”

“Flo—­what happened?” demanded Carley, anxiously.

“Carley, do you know Glenn can fight like the devil?” asked Flo.

“No, I don’t.  But I remember he used to be athletic.  Flo, you make me nervous.  Did Glenn fight?”

“I reckon he did,” drawled Flo.

“With whom?”

“Nobody else but that big hombre, Haze Ruff.”

“Oh!” gasped Carley, with a violent start.  “That—­that ruffian!  Flo, did you see—­were you there?”

“I shore was, an’ next to a horse race I like a fight,” replied the Western girl.  “Carley, why didn’t you tell me Haze Ruff insulted you last night?”

“Why, Flo—­he only said, ‘Hello, pretty eyes,’ and I let it pass!” said Carley, lamely.

“You never want to let anything pass, out West.  Because next time you’ll get worse.  This turn your other cheek doesn’t go in Arizona.  But we shore thought Ruff said worse than that.  Though from him that’s aplenty.”

“How did you know?”

“Well, Charley told it.  He was standing out here by the door last night an’ he heard Ruff speak to you.  Charley thinks a heap of you an’ I reckon he hates Ruff.  Besides, Charley stretches things.  He shore riled Glenn, an’ I want to say, my dear, you missed the best thing that’s happened since you got here.”

“Hurry—­tell me,” begged Carley, feeling the blood come to her face.

“I rode over to Ryan’s place for dad, an’ when I got there I knew nothing about what Ruff said to you,” began Flo, and she took hold of Carley’s hand.  “Neither did dad.  You see, Glenn hadn’t got there yet.  Well, just as the men had finished dipping a bunch of sheep Glenn came riding down, lickety cut.”

“‘Now what the hell’s wrong with Glenn?’ said dad, getting up from where we sat.

“Shore I knew Glenn was mad, though I never before saw him that way.  He looked sort of grim an’ black. . . .  Well, he rode right down on us an’ piled off.  Dad yelled at him an’ so did I. But Glenn made for the sheep pen.  You know where we watched Haze Ruff an’ Lorenzo slinging the sheep into the dip.  Ruff was just about to climb out over the fence when Glenn leaped up on it.”

“‘Say, Ruff,’ he said, sort of hard, ‘Charley an’ Ben tell me they heard you speak disrespectfully to Miss Burch last night.’”